Thinking Spring in October

Just planted a few bulbs--some giant alliums (christophii), dwarf irises, daffodils ("cheerfulness" and "barrett browning") and something called Mediterranean Bells (nectaroscordum)--and a bit of garlic.  Planting bulbs is seriously unsatisfying.  It's a lot of work digging all the holes to the correct depths--yes, I've tried the drill attachment, no, it doesn't work in clay soil with lots of roots--and there's no payoff for months and months.  It's also really difficult to know exactly where to plant them.  Last spring I cleverly put white golf tees out to mark where I wanted to put groupings of 5 or 7 bulbs.  Today when I went to plant I couldn't find a single tee anywhere.  I did, however, find a long-lost dandelion digger that I hadn't seen since July.

Yard "Butler"

So I bought this thing called a Yard Butler that is supposed to help you mix your compost, and it does the job, but after just a few minutes of the rather backbreaking labor involved, I just want to protest against the name.  It is in no way like having a yard butler, which evokes images of swanning about the garden in a long white dress snipping deadheads off the roses in a desultory fashion while a team of under-gardeners performs the manual labor and there's an absinthe cocktail waiting on the veranda for when you get tired.

Using the yard butler is the opposite of that.  It's like doing bench rows from an awkward standing position.  You shove the thing into the compost, which is easy enough, but when you pull it out these little wings pop out, which is what mixes the compost.  However, unless your compost is already done, the little wings hit a number of snags and it requires quite a bit of brute force to get it out while dragging up whatever solids are lurking at the bottom of your pile.  I think it should be called the Sadistic and Not At All Ergonomic Upper Body Garden Trainer that Will, Incidentally, Mix Your Compost If You Really Apply Yourself.

Update:  Well, it turns out it's NOT called the Yard Butler, it's a compost aerator made by the fine people at Yard Butler.  However, I stand by my rant.  No matter how many products I buy from Yard Butler, I still won't be living like the landed classes in an Agatha Christie novel and there won't be anyone standing about with trays of cocktails waiting to convey my instructions to the head gardener.

Composting Update

How gorgeous is this?  This fills me with really unutterable joy.  This is what it used to look like:

And now here's the view from our upstairs landing:

How totally fabulous is that?  And, there's room to expand.  I've got my eye on one of those roly-spinny composters that makes compost tea in the bottom.

Just Plain Godawful

So, this is probably the ugliest part of my yard, and it's right next to the front door.  As you can see, we've paired the sturdy greenery of hostas and day lilies (the invasive orange kind, of course) with assorted objets d'plastic and a severely pruned arbor vita.  Probably the out of season sleds could go somewhere else, but there's really nowhere else to keep the trash and recycling bins.  This is my number one priority next spring, but how to fix it?

I Am the World's Worst Composter

Yes, this is my compost.  It has weeds growing in it, and the chicken wire is falling down, and it's generally a wretched sight.  Naturally, I put it where it's visible from one entire side of the house all year round, including the living room.  It's also directly underneath the black walnut tree, so even if I happened, purely by accident, to produce compost, it would be poisonous to a long list of plants.  However, last week I got paid and inspired and I started to redo it.  This makes me so happy:

There's more work to be done, but it already looks a lot better, and with covered compost that isn't full of toxic black walnuts I might even be able to use it for something someday.

I Hate Gardening

I think I can say that this was a pretty disastrous gardening year.  The tomatoes grew a thousand feet tall, produced bushels of green tomatoes, but never really ripened up to their full potential.  As soon as they started ripening in earnest we had a patch of cooler weather and they just stayed where they were, refusing to die, but also refusing to produce tomatoes.  Maybe next year I'll try out some floating row covers and see if I can keep them warmer on any cool August nights.

The okra have pretty good potential, but, as I already mentioned, they mostly came while we were away.

The zucchini failed completely, which is a terrible sign.  What idiot can't grow zucchini?  But, I tried to keep them from taking over and trimmed them back and they never forgave me.

I don't even know what happened to my cucumber plant.  One day it was threatening to break out of its bed with vigorous growth, the next day the entire vine was a shriveled, pathetic wreck.  It still produced a few cukes, but they weren't really any better than grocery store cucumbers, so I don't really see the point.

Were there any successes?  I'm hoping that maybe the brussels sprouts will work out, and I suppose the basil did alright, as did the hot peppers.  Hot peppers are the easiest thing in the world to grow.

Early in the season I had some decent lettuce and spinach but I failed to keep seeding it and so that ran out as soon as it got too hot.  I tossed around some lettuce seeds at the end of August, hoping to have a few respectable leaves for sandwiches, but it's still not even at the baby greens stage.  It's like embryonic greens even now.  Ironically, I grow lettuce not because we eat a lot of it but because we eat so little--I just like it on sandwiches that I pack for lunches and it's annoying to buy a new head of lettuce every week when you just need a few leaves.

So, that's about it.  Gardening sucks.  But there's always next year....

Oppressed Garden Helper

Slinky is determined to sneak out and help with the garden.  Unfortunately, I just don't trust her to be sensible around cars, other cats, anti-freeze, songbirds, etc.  I'm tempted to get her one of the new cat holsters, which promises to be a harness they can't slink out of, and stake her out while I get work done, but I haven't done it yet.  If nothing else, it will make for some amusing pictures.  Here's a promotional picture of a supposedly happy cat wearing the holster: